


If Only

by neatospiffy



Category: GOT7
Genre: Deaths, JJP if you squint, Other, Platonic Markson, Violence, merc!mark, mercenary, mercenary au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 14:04:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10720800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neatospiffy/pseuds/neatospiffy
Summary: three sentence prompt thing, also a mercenary AU. why not.





	If Only

The bullet wound in his side oozed slick blood, seeping through the fingers pressing on top and staining both them and the shirt a glossy red; Jaebum’s chest was heaving, and he was sweating icy bullets, but the pain’s resonance had faded to a dull throb, which was probably a sign that something was  _ very wrong, _ but he ignored it in favor of consoling his sobbing boyfriend, Jinyoung, who looked wrecked, as if  _ he _ was the one bleeding out. 

“No,” Jinyoung breathed, “no no no no, this isn’t happening, you-you’re pranking me, o-or I’m dreaming, I’m still asleep, I’m--” 

“Jinyoung,” Jaebum interrupted, finding his eyes with his own blurring ones, “I love you.” 

  
  


Mark hummed softly as he played with Jackson’s hair, letting the soft, silken strands of his best friend’s platinum blond sift through his fingers like water as he scrolled through his phone with his opposite hand; Jackson was practically out of it, gone, eyes drifting shut and fluttering open every few seconds, struggling to keep his grip on wakefulness. 

“Please,” Jackson whispered, watching through hazy eyes as the pool of blood beneath him spread slowly towards his nonchalant mercenary and best friend. 

“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Jacks, but you left me no choice; you found my employer,” Mark said, still as quiet as his humming, “ and tried to follow me,” his voice got closer to Jackson’s blurring sense of hearing for a quick moment as he murmured, “but I just might miss you.” 

  
  


Soft hands caressed Kunpimook’s face, one covering his mouth and the other resting on his cheek; he struggled weakly, his oxygen supply dwindling, and the man, the beautiful man who had followed him from the art gallery, laughed softly, tightening and adjusting his grip so the oxygen left faster. 

“It’s a shame,” the man said, watching him almost disinterestedly, “I don’t even know your name,” he idly watched his fists hit the wall twice, weak, before falling limp. 

“Two hits,” he mused, “Bambam; a lovely name.” 

  
  


Yugyeom’s face twisted as he drank his shake, ingesting an impossible amount of the poisonous powder from Mark’s pocket; he coughed, the abrasive particles adhering to his trachea, his nasal cavity, making their way down to his stomach; soon he’d bleed to death internally, hemorrhaging and coughing and twisting to ease the pain. 

Mark smiled and sipped his own drink from across the restaurant, rolling the coffee on his tongue for a moment. 

Everything was going exceptionally well. 

  
  


Youngjae was waiting for him when Mark got home, curled on the couch in a large pink sweatshirt of his boyfriend’s and petting their small white puppy, Coco; he looked up happily when he heard the door, smiling at Mark like the sun rose and set because of him. 

Mark smiled back, walking over and petting his hair back from his face as he leaned down to give him a gentle peck on the lips, savoring the soft warmth of his boyfriend’s mouth and feeling his heart swell with love as Youngjae giggled into the kiss, making Mark giggle as well. 

If only Youngjae knew.

**Author's Note:**

> this was trash bYE


End file.
